Heroes Are Meant To Be Alone
by frostlight
Summary: Heroes are meant to be alone. I am alone. But I am no hero.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Heroes are meant to be alone.

I am alone.

But I am no hero.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

I was floating, floating weightlessly in a black abyss that held no light, aimlessly wandering through this space where nothing existed, nothing but the past that you could not let go. How long had it been since I have been alive? How long since I have been banished to an existence that was so hopeless? So futile? Restlessly chasing after my mistakes, reliving them again and again in this black tunnel, I have been wandering so long through this darkness, this tunnel of only images that shredded and hurt, I have already lost track of time. Yet, what was time when I was trapped in my own memories? Memories, figments of the past…they exist to haunt you, taunt and tantalise you. They are truly cruel things, that. The ability to remember, to have those bits and pieces come back to you everywhere you turn, to be stuck in those days where things have been so much better. Reliving what I have lost, it really was the cruellest punishment she had brought upon me. I wondered if she knew what she had done when she chanted those words, those simple sentences that brought on my judgement. Do I blame her? Do I hate her? Do I wish for vengeance?

Thinking of her made the darkness deepen and more images of a blonde haired girl to appear, I hated those happy faces of our younger self, when there were trust, friendship and love. All of us were smiling, laughing, curious of the things the world presented to us, wanting to grow up so that we could experience more. We had been idealists, filled with a confidence that we could change the world, improve. All of us had noble ambitions that were big enough to envelop the whole country, our kingdom. We wanted to save everyone and protect those whom we cared about. These were the lessons and ideals our tutors, parents, politicians, aunts and uncles have repeated again and again to deeply embed it in our naïve minds. To them, we are the pillars of society, we had the responsibility of being young to respect the old and accept our destiny, our fate. And we had.

I realised now, how foolish we were then. To follow blindly every order, to obey, to succumb, it dulled our minds, made us nothing but efficient tools. But, he, he had one day stood up to those people, made them see that they were not necessarily always right. He had been so afraid yet, he had shouldered on, his violet gems determined to see it through. And he had won that battle. It was a new start, he had earned the elders grudging respect. It was the beginning of a new era, an era where improvement was imminent. All things had been going well, slowly but surely, they had tried to do the best they could, fulfilling the oaths that they had vowed when they were young.

I remembered, replayed those pictures that could never be erased even if I wanted to, the childhood promises and wishes that we had occasionally burdened upon that one wishing star. We had really worked hard during those years to achieve the results and goals we had set. Yet, as time passed by, people changed, matured, realised even more things that came with the lessons that had to be learnt. I had, personally understood that I was becoming the one person I wished I did not turn into. And, out of the blue, I had seen that one graceful stretch of light and old habits did not die. It had been quite a waste of time, something that I had stopped believing in, a myth that brought on nothing but biased hope, priding myself on trusting only me more than what seemed to be a falling, about to die star. But, through that action, I had been comforted, a small relief that I had not forgotten what it was to be young and not as embittered about the world.

It was ironic, really, recalling that wish. Then, I had wished for myself and them to be able to return to those happier times, a selfish wish because I had been afraid, a fear that seemed so stupid now. I had been so scared that I would lose them, that I would never be able to follow them, only being able to look at them from afar. That was how far our statuses were, they were once again leaving me behind, running so fast that no matter how fast I chased, I never seemed to be able to reach them. That wish and now, being trapped in an never ending loop of regrets was so ironic. I was back in happier times, but not in them, always looking on as the scenes played again and again on the outside, a mental torture I did not know how long I could endure before totally losing myself.

Yet even after it all, I do not regret knowing them.

I do not regret loving them.

I do not regret being killed by them.

I only regret that I had to dirty her hands…

I should have known since the day I accepted that responsibility that I will always be alone. I will always be the outsider, working and protecting from the outer circle, keeping in the shadows, the dark my cover and only friend. I wondered whether the spell from before, the one she had spoken with so much anguish, had split my soul, that I would no longer be reincarnated. The winged beings of the sky, even in death would still, could still be born again if they were deemed innocent and pure. Yet, I sneered to myself, I knew without a doubt that I was a sinner. All for a country, I had given up my own future and killed. I had done so, so many times I have already lost track of how many lives I had taken. The blood and their screams repeated itself again and again in sequence. But, even through it all, she had tried to understand, she had tried to make things right, even though I kept these secrets from her, not wanting to taint her innocence. Neither of them understood the logic of having to make sacrifices. But I did. And that was why I was chosen.

_Blonde hair shimmering in the sun, amber eyes shining brightly as her laughter tinkled in the wind._

I wondered how she was, whether she still hated me, if she still retained those memories. We had been lovers back then, back when I was alive, back when I was still the man she loved and respected. She was the one who had killed me. She was the one whom I had allowed to take my life. It was my duty to protect and it was hers too. She was born to protect her brother, the future King, while my duty was to protect the Kingdom, our Kingdom, from any possible threats. It was foreseen in visions by the Royal seers that the prince would bring tragedy and death to the Kingdom, and thus my role as the saviour of the Kingdom was to kill the prince. I had done my job, as usual, without questioning my superiors. I was supposed to be the perfect soldier and it had been drilled into us that our duty was the first and foremost. And with that I had killed my best friend and my lover's brother. If time could be turned back, would I have been able to say I would be able to say no to my duty? Would I have been able to save both the Kingdom and my friend? Would I even have been able to save my own soul?

_It's not too late for you. There are ways.._

"Not too late, huh…" My words were jumbled, rusty with non use, voice scratchy and gruff. Right now, I was so tired I just wanted to sleep and maybe one day when I woke up, things could be different and I would be given another chance to redeem what I have lost. Or at least, do something that could remedy the situation even though it was too late. Would that be too much to ask?

_If you were given a chance to make things right, would you?_

"Would I?" I mumbled in my mind, not caring about that voice. There were too many surprises in this black walkway and it was a too high probability that I was hallucinating. A dual personality if you wanted it to be. Too long have I gone without talking to anyone. Who would be here anyways?

_You can have that second chance to right all the wrongs in your previous life. Are you willing to take the risk?_

"What risk is there? I'm a lost soul, bound to this nothingness for all eternity, not allowed to go anywhere…" Bitter laced through my words as I snickered out loud. Here I could be as rude and unforgiving a character as I wanted. I was entitled to it and I forced those unwanted feelings of hope back into the depths where it belonged. I could not be allowed to feel, not now, not when everything was already determined.

_You are so fatalistic. What is wrong with being given a second chance?_

"What is wrong? How can you right so many wrongs?"

_You can try. The choice is yours. _

_Blonde hair and fierce amber eyes._

_Kind laughter and violet eyes that held out his hand._

"I miss them…I miss them so much…"

_I take it the answer is yes…so be it. Your wish is granted._

"Who are you? Why are you helping me? What is the price?"

_Go…take back what was forcefully taken away from you._

_There is more to your future than this black nothingness. Go and find your own path._

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The robed lady smiled slightly in satisfaction, her brown eyes sparkling as the dot that was once the best soldier of the Crystal Kingdom grew stronger and brighter, finally finding back the will of his to live. She had high hopes for him, for he is the last ever one that she would have. This was his last and only chance to make the mistakes right, to patch up the unforgivable, his chance for redemption. It was hers too, her last and only opportunity to fulfil what her family had never been able to in the past. All of them had been pawns in the past, but now, now when she was stronger, wiser, she would guide them. She would give it her all, her destiny is now, it was the only reason why she had survived that massacre last time, she would gather up all the needed players and the game, battle, would begin.

Turning away from the crystal sphere that was floating in the middle of the room, she took a few steps away from it, before turning again to look at it, her steady gaze never wavering. She clasped both of her hands together and formed a few elaborate signs that were both graceful and precise, her voice strong and clear as she gave her respects to the four Gods that would help her in her next task. She was the last of the oracles and what she was about to do was not their way. She had dabbled into the dark arts, the forbidden craft that her ancestors had all but commanded her to never use. Yet, inexperienced as she was, she had learnt enough to make this spell work and she hoped that her ancestors would approve of what she was doing, they had been a demure bunch, always heeding the will of the King, but that had proved to be their fall, their place in the Royal Palace ousted by that treacherous snake.

But now, she would not be the fool.

She will make sure that this would be last.

"God of the North, God of the South, God of the East, God of the West, I humbly approach you with the wishes of the heart." With each name, she turned once to face the direction that she had just spoken, a light breeze started blowing in the room even if there were no windows and the door was closed as she spoke. "Lend me your power, grant him who has the will to be able to stand strong, allow him the strength to achieve, to fulfil the fate that has been predestined."

"Allow him to defy those that has bound him, regret, sadness, pain, let him gain the power from those emotions, show him the way. Grant him the final power that would finally defeat the one who has bound you to them." The woman in the robe closed her eyes and started chanting in a language that was foreign, her tongue rolling smoothly over the syllables that formed as the breeze turned stronger and more intense, almost whipping up a storm. The woman ignored the harsh cold wind and continued, she was not about to fail the one person she had given hope to. She closed her eyes in concentration, focusing all that she had into the words that she was giving birth, felt the power in the room surge, cresting up like an enormous wave before crashing into the crystal ball, shattering it into a million pieces and for a moment, the woman dared not breathe, dared not move, her fingers clenched tightly into a fist.

_Please let this work. Please._

It was not until the darkness cleared up, and a warm gentle yellow filled the room, starting dimly at first, so pale it was almost translucent, but increasing in its brightness as emerald green sparks danced and flitted around the room, only then did she remembered to allow oxygen into her lungs. It was beautiful, the woman thought, speechless, as she stared at it awed, this was the colour of his soul, not dark and angry and red as she expected but such a gentle, warm colour. She had not mistaken the one who would make all these work. A lone tear tracked a path from her eye, touched at the scene that she was witnessing. All her hard laid plans, the calculations for the right time and place, all those mind numbing effort she put in pouring over books in a language she did not even understand or could read. The future that had seemed so bleak now had seemed better.

"Thank you…" She whispered in gratitude as she stood there transfixed, her hood no longer covering her face, exposing a young woman with brown hair and kind brown eyes. She was not by normal standard classically beautiful, had not the high cheek bones or the lanky build fit for a model, but what she lacked in features she made up with character. Her hazel brown eyes were kind and warm, her mouth a warm curve as she smiled in happiness and awe. Hers was the type of beauty that came from her soul and not pretence. Her eyes watched intently as an outline of a figure started to form, blur at first but getting more pronounced as seconds ticked pass.

A baby, a healthy baby boy.

And soon, she knew, she would have to leave, her duty done. She stayed because she had to make sure nothing went wrong and she could only stay until then, longer than that, and the Gods will grow impatient. She had a pay a price, a price that came with their help, but she would gladly give it to them. In this ending story, she would and could not play a role in it anymore, not until the new story began and he, and the rest of them, fully awakened and walked down the path that all of them had chosen. Only then, only till then, would she be able to appear before them once again, to direct them to the one place where all their fate entwined.

It was now all up to them for their future.

It was time.

"God of the North, the wise, God of the South, the cunning, God of the East, the brave, and God of the West, the strength, your humble servant sends you her gratitude. Accept this gift in return for your blessings, it is yours.." With that without hesitation, she slashed open her wrists and allowed the blood that gushed forth to flow into the cup in front of her accompanied with the cries of a newborn baby.

_His name will be Athrun Zala._

As her body fell bonelessly to the hard granite floor, she smiled at the imagined ancestors who would be clicking their tongue and shaking their heads with disapproval. Energy sapped away from her as breathing became harder, and her vision grew dim, but she still could see the golden glow, the tears that she held back earlier, flowing freely now. This was why her ancestors disapprove of the dark arts, there was always need for a sacrifice and this was hers. But she had no regrets, she hoped that she would be given a chance to grow with the people that she had held close to her heart that once upon a time, the friends she could not protect. May the Gods be kind to provide her with that one chance, until the next time all of them awakened, she would be there to guide them. It was a promise she could keep this time.

_Please__, no matter what, please stay safe till then. _

_I will join all of you this time. I promise._

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Five years later,

"Mama…tell us a story…please tell us a story! I want to listen to the one with the winged people." The little girl with hair like golden spun thread looked pleadingly at her mother who smiled before settling down on the little girl's bed, smoothing the wild curls that ran amock on her head.

"Shouldn't you be asleep by now?" She scolded the young girl of five gently, her eyes kind and loving as she tucked the covers under the girl's chin.

"Kira wants to hear a story too." The young girl ignored the admonition and continued on, dragging her brother who looked at her with wide violet eyes, into the bargain. Her mother looked at her headstrong daughter in slight exasperation, but the love in her eyes shone through and she chuckled, knowing how to lose gracefully when it came to her only daughter. She had been blessed with twins that were like two opposite polars. One was strong willed and outspoken while the other was quiet, observing the world like an old man.

"Cagalli…all right then, one story and then bedtime all right?"

"All right.." Her daughter, Cagalli Yula Athha promised solemnly and smiled so sweetly that her mother did not know whether to laugh or cry at the emotional blackmail.

"Well….once upon a time…"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

_It all began a long time ago when __the Golden people, wandering holy beings that travelled through space and time made a journey from planet to planet and found a beautiful uninhabited paradise that exploded with colour. It was a lonely lovely planet that the Golden people immediately fell in love with and named it Earth. Yet, Earth as the Golden people knew it was soon besieged by a strange force, an enemy force that hungered after life to sustain itself, had wanted to devour the land that the Golden people held dear. In retaliation, the Golden people who had the power to create, imagined four races, four of them that would in the future rule the sky, the land, the sea and finally the underground. The fight went on long and hard and many were sacrificed, yet, their painful labour soon paid off when the enemy was defeated. The Golden people, afraid that they would yet again bring misfortune to the beings that they had grown close to, made a decision to continue on their journey of aimless wandering, hoping that maybe one day they would finally find a place to call home. With heavy hearts before they left, they amassed the leaders of the beings they had created and left them with this:_

"_Wing beings, kindest of them all, you shall rule the sky, be taken as angels, and be blessed with ever lasting wind."_

"_Two legged beings, your mind as sharp as glass, you shall rule the land, be taken as humans and be blessed with ever improving technology."_

"_Merpeople, you who love the sea, loyal and trustworthy are thee, all of you have been granted a home, rule the waters as fair as you can be."_

"_Cruel beings, with wings black as sin, you though have helped, yet had betrayed too, you shall have the underground where selfish creatures like you go."_

_After the departure of the Golden beings, the four designated tribes soon took up their own respective rule and a new chapter of life began. However, the peace that all four tribes promised did not go as smoothly as all of them had wished. It was not long after that that trouble started brewing in parts which continued to in__fect the others as time went by. A story that should have had a happy ending was ruined by traitors who lust after power and hungered for war. And everything ended and started with the death of a should be King…._

* * *

Author's note: I know I should not start yet another new project before finishing my others, but this muse bit me and would not let go no matter how hard I shook it. Therefore, this is my new baby, hope you would take care of it. Reviews are very much welcomed and appreciated. 


	2. Dreams

Heroes are meant to be alone.

I am alone.

But I am no hero. 

Chapter 1 : Dreams

by: frost2light  


The woman was sheathed in multi colours, her long skirt and loose blouse presenting to any who would look a dash of purple over vibrant yellow or orange, dabbling later with maroon over a interesting violet, clashing within itself yet forming a multitude of fascinating imprints on a material that was both flimsy and strong, swishing and swirling around her hunched body as she moved with a grace that the wearer did not have. Her thick greying brown hair was immaculately done up in plaits before the numerous thick ropes were collected haphazardly as if the woman had lost patience into a simple white scarf that was so different from the clothes she was wearing. She plodded around the small space, plucking cushions and plumping them up, smacking them gently, as if afraid to hurt them before placing them back where they belonged. Her shrewd beady black eyes scanned the room, looking for any items that were out of place, or would cause any unneeded attention, before nodding in satisfaction when she found none. Her current job done, she folded herself gracefully into a chair, arranging her body into a comfortable position in front of her props and her dried red lips curled up into a predatory smile. 

Everything was ready, the stage set. All she needed now was to wait, wait patiently for the next victim, the next in line of the needed number.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Anisha Letie giggled drunkenly with her female friend, their high heels click clacking tipsily on the black tar down the darkened street. Both of them were dressed up to the nines, their choice of fashion carefully deliberated to show off their youth and vigour. Their short skirts were paired tastefully with low sheer tops, revealing mile long legs and proudly baring assets begging to be touched and appreciated. They finished off their selections with necklaces and bangles that adorned their flesh, making people look both at the long white necks graceful like a swan's and slim hands that still clutched a half full bottle of shimmering golden amber liquid, like molten gold the colour of the sun, their jewellery tinkling gaily in the dark with every step they took. The night had shown them enough fun and laughter, holding their normal lives at bay, almost enough so that the sadness and grief of the past had somehow been forgotten just for awhile.

"Back to your place or mine…darling?" The woman with spiky black hair asked, adding the endearment as an afterthought, before planting a big sloppy kiss on Anisha's cheek. "We can go on and on there…without any interruption…" She continued, eyebrows waggling, wiping the small patch of drool that lingered with the back of her hand, her voice thick, as if her tongue was too big for her mouth, slurring out the words as she stumbled over her own feet that had began to feel unlike hers, nearly falling flat on her face. She giggled madly at that near chance, doubling over at her hilarity while Anisha accompanied her laughter.

"Which one's nearer?" Anisha asked, always the level headed one, even though she herself was in danger of tripping over her feet and staying down to sleep off the alcohol. 

"Yours." The black haired girl said triumphantly, grinning from ear to ear, proud that she could still think rationally.

"Mine then." And both of them, with their arms around each other shoulders trooped onwards to Anisha's apartment, singing out loud into the night, changing the lyrics into a somewhat x rated version, all the while laughing and giggling like mad women, not caring if their voices disturbed the neighbourhood or disrupted anyone's slumber. It was their night and they will, by all means, do whatever they wanted, even if it were deemed selfish.

But, just before they arrived at Anisha's rented apartment, Anisha's eyes caught sight of a small, partially hidden structure right in the middle of the taller brick and cement buildings and stopped short. Squinting into the dark, she mumbled questions towards herself, her mind trying to push through the thick sludge and kick start the grey matter that were suddenly as useful as thick mud and tried to remember if there was anything like it before. Part of her scoffed at the ridiculousness of it all, wanting only to just go, but the stronger part of her was being drawn inexorably towards the structure without knowing why. It was simple, just a tarp covering a small extended part of a shop, but the way it stood, slumped towards one side, as if held up by invisible strings struck her as odd. 

"Anisha?"

Anisha ignored the plaintive whine and continued her track towards the small lopsided structure, her eyes trying to trace the suddenly unintelligible handwriting advertising services of some kind. She blinked, trying to clear the cobwebs that appeared in her drunken state and piece back the sudden fracture of one perfect piece but only succeeded in creating a laser show, enough to make the creator of Star War's go green with jealousy.

"Hydra, what does it say?" Frustrated at her inability to interpret a simple thing, Anisha beckoned to her friend who sighed out loud in impatience before reluctantly wobbling towards the sign, her eyes scrunching half close to peer closely towards the faded wood that bore too many marks of both age and weather.

"Taaa…rr..?" Hydra answered woozily, her brain addled with the amount of alcohol that she had consumed, making it twice as hard to read and thrice as long to even understand the alphabets that joined together to form a word.

"What does that say?" Anisha bugged, like a petulant child who needled an irritated parent for an answer.

"Aaaa….give me a minute will you?" Hydra retaliated somewhat rudely, successfully quietening an abashed Anisha who shifted from one foot to another in response, waiting impatiently for the answer. Rolling her eyes skyward at the way her friend was acting, Hydra continued to try leaning in closer towards the sign, her button nose almost touching the wooden plank, trying to decipher the stupid thing that had caught her friend's attention.

"Taaa…rrrrooot… Reeeadding." 

"Tarot… Reading?" Anisha mumbled, her face darkening for an instant before brightening up the next moment, grabbing hold of her friend's arm, she pulled Hydra into the tent, despite the protests that the black haired woman voiced out. 

"Don't worry…it would be fun." Anisha reassured Hydra who snorted in indifference, scowling and muttering curses under her breath, but their banter was soon drowned out by the ominous clanging of the tower clock, one time after another, announcing that it was now midnight.

And the woman in the tent like structure who wore multicoloured garments smiled in satisfaction.

The prey had just fallen into her net.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Cagalli Yula Athha was torn between the choice to laugh or cry when the mirror reflecting her dismal reflection did not wail in agony and despair or crack into a million pieces when she stood in front of it. She knew she was exaggerating the truth and being too critical over the smudges of black under her eyes, but she was not in a particularly positive mood, in fact the black clouds that had hovered over her head since the start of the day had continued to darken respectably with each passing moment and if a persons' imagination was rich enough, they would be able to see flashes of lightning and the heavy drum rolls of thunder that warned of an impending storm. Indeed, Cagalli was quite thankful that most of them had been savvy enough to keep out of harm's way.

Sighing to herself, she turned away to rummage around in her cupboard which was hopelessly messy from the lack of effort of keeping it tidy and neat and randomly picked an item, glancing at it to make sure there weren't any fur on it, no thanks to the pet that thinks food was everywhere, before tugging the loose garment over her head. It was among the hundreds of others that had stayed in her wardrobe through the years, amassing into a stunning amount that threatened to erupt anytime whenever she opened the cupboard doors. Pushing firmly against the ones that had dislodged when she pulled out the earlier shirt, she knew that she had to clean up some day or things just would not continue to fit no matter how big a space it'd be. Vowing to do so sometime this year, she walked off in the general direction of the bathroom grinning slightly when she remembered the scenes where her brother had clucked exasperatedly around her like a mother hen before _pleading,_sounding almost desperate to Cagalli to allow him to do the honours.

Chuckling at that particular memory while absentmindedly folding the oversized sleeves up towards her shoulders, a habit she acquired to prevent them from getting wet as she went through her daily routine of floss, brush and wash, her idle mind running through the items that she needed to do tomorrow, mentally making a list of things that needed to be done. She enjoyed being busy, loved to be occupied with the activities of life, making decisions, helping people, being bossy and loud and noisy, and most of all being alive. She wanted people to see her for who she is, determined, feisty, stubborn, wanting them to acknowledge her presence not because she was the girl who lost her parents in that horrific murder, or the poor orphan girl who nobody wants, or any of those degrading names that belittled what her parents had given her. She needed none of their sympathy.

The mirror reflected the fire burning bright in those amber orbs, the want, need to make things work, but none of it could cover the sadness that flickered in the dancing flames. The pain that gnawed at her soul every time she remembered the things that she had lost within that one day, accompanying her brother as they bawled their eyes out during the funeral, calling out to ears that would never hear again, arms that would never comfort a small child again, eyes that would no longer soften in love or a mouth that would quirk up and smile even if an admonishment was given before. Neither of them had wanted to believe that their beloved papa and mama were gone, that the sheltered world that they had once known had vanished without a warning. Both of them had been shouting for either of them to wake up, promising over and over again to be good, to do the household chores without prompting, to finish their homework before watching their favourite programmes on television, vowing each and every single thing that six year olds were supposed to do, just so that their parents would open their eyes and just _wake up_. But, nothing had happened, not once had their parents twitched or moved and the two heartbroken six year olds watched helplessly, restrained by fellow relatives as their parent's coffins were laid slowly to rest side by side six feet underground. 

The nightmare had started without any of them realising what was in store for them. It had been so sudden, the day beginning so normally and ending so horribly. Papa and mama had been where they were supposed to be every morning, mama wishing her good morning as she came down the steps, rushing as usual because she had woken up late, smiling that brilliant, confident smile of hers before turning back to burry herself in the papers, nibbling at the toast her husband had prepared for her, the strong aroma of roasted coffee lingering in the kitchen, the smell of breakfast not far behind. Papa had admonished her fondly in that exasperated tone before handing her a plate already filled to the brim with her favourite foods. Cagalli had smiled cheekily at him, teasing him about the lime green apron with miniature bright pink hearts peppering its surface and frills all around the cloth, a present of hers to him for his birthday just recently, wolfing down the delicious food that he had prepared.

Mama was the breadwinner of the family, a lawyer in an up and coming law firm, working late hours and sometimes not being there whenever both of them needed her. However, they did not mind, because there was still papa, papa who took them shopping, worked with them on their homework, played catch with them, the man who was the emotional if not the financial pillar of the family. He was an author, a cheerful father who had an imagination without boundaries creating imaginary worlds, of beings with pure white wings living in crystal palaces, merpeople who swam gracefully in the sea, friends with all creatures under water, wise beings with two feet, equipped with the knowledge of the world. He allowed sin to enter to teach his readers about the grey in the world, to make them think, to allow them to judge for themselves the right and the wrong. He was the person who had single handedly brought beautiful stories of faraway lands for children, giving them what their imaginations could not come up with. 

But, everything crashed and burned, violence taking away everything she held dear. They had been in school when it happened, their class ending abruptly with the voice of their headmistress calling for them to come over to the office over the public system, they had been so happy that they could escape the boring monotonous drone of the teacher teaching their history class while their friends gave both of them curious yet envious and admiring glances, wishing that it were them going out of class. They had noticed the stricken look on their homeroom teacher's face and the headmistress's forced joviality, puzzled to their attitudes, but the minds of a six year old child was filled with innocence and bright sunshine, neither one of them expecting bad news much less murder, mayhem and death. All they had was a sense of something gone horribly wrong 

And by the time they reached home, accompanied by their homeroom teacher who held on tightly to their small hands, as if trying to garner courage for herself, instead of comforting them, they understood. Everything had felt so surreal, almost like a part from a show, a movie, a slice of fiction instead of reality, from the flashing red lights on the ambulances and police vehicles casting an on off illumination on all of the people's faces to the looks of pity that fell on them from the crowd with each step they took which parted into two, like Moses and the red sea, allowing them first class seats and a free entrance to participate in an event they never would have willingly joined. They had tried to convince each other silently through tightly clutched hands that things would be going to be all right, that it was all a well planned joke, both of them had watched programmes like this on television. And they waited patiently for the man to jump up and say "Candid Camera!" 

But nothing like that occurred, no man with the huge ear splitting grin, no hidden cameras, nothing. Only stretchers with white sheets coloured with huge red blossoms carried away by sombre paramedics with sorrowful eyes, shocked gasps and murmured whispered condolences by their neighbours who within themselves were thankful that the tragedy had not happened to them. Both of them had trained their eyes, bright violet and amber orbs, on the shapes under the white cloth, hoping to see something other than fingers that dripped maroon, but still nothing. Their parents were dead, killed by unknown assailants for an unknown reason.

After that fateful day, Kira Yamato had been the one who took care of her, cooked, cleaned, washed and made sure she ate while she started herself on a countdown till breakdown. She had refused to accept the fact that her parents were gone, that she would no longer be able to see them, hear them or talk to them. She forbade anybody to mention anything regarding their deaths, not trying even to acknowledge reason that she had to move on. All she wanted was answers nobody could give her and wished she could die as well. She had nearly succeeded in driving herself insane, caught up in her own world, and it was only when her brother had thrown himself before a truck that was about to hit her that she woke up from the self imposed coma. And from that day onwards, she promised her brother that she would live, for her parent's sake, for her sake, and enjoy most out of life while working equally as hard. They who could not be here to watch her shine, may they watch her from Heaven and be proud.

And speaking about worry, Cagalli's smooth forehead creased with frown, she had noticed recently that Kira was looking more and more tired every day, his skin the colour of chalk compared to the healthy glow he used to have. He was hiding something, things that resulted in dark circles under his eyes which were even more pronounced than her own, and there were times when she had been awoken by his whimpers of distress and helpless pleadings, his voice carrying through the thin walls of their cheap apartment. She had questioned him about it the next morning, but he had looked away and just shook his head, smiling at her like always before changing the topic. Unwilling to let it go, yet respecting his decision to do so, she had faith that he would bring it up sooner or later on his own accord, and thus not pressing the issue. A small part of her was relieved, half afraid he would question her on her own dismal appearance instead, which would undeniably lead to the dreams that plagued her every night, making her almost afraid to close her eyes, she had not the courage to face those emotions again. 

_S__o real…_

Cagalli could not understand the reason why she felt the way she did whenever those dreams came to her, that overwhelming tidal wave of sadness, grief and pain, burning red anger and hatred, mixing and churning, turning into tornado of complicated emotions that threatened to drown her, cutting off her air supply, choking her with the deep paralysing despair that came with a loved one's betrayal. It was different from what she experienced with her parents, it was deeper, sharper, a knife with serrated edges that shredded and tore, jagged parts and pieces that crumbled and tore again, so torturing, worst than having her heart torn out from her body. She knew nobody would believe her if she ever told others about her feelings, because how could one _feel_what one could not see? It was hilarious but so true Each and every of her dreams were shrouded in mist, a thick white smog that created blurred figures that moved and spoke, yet the emotions transmitted itself clearly over the blindness, raw, naked, intense, making her unable to do anything but to accept and _feel._

"Come on Cagalli, you have lots of things to do tomorrow. You cannot afford to stay up thinking about all these…go to sleep." Cagalli chastised her reflection in the mirror, but she knew that it was all false bravado, her voice an octave too high, sounding as unconvinced as she felt.

Turning away from the mirror, not wanting to look at her pathetic self any longer, she walked out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, flopping onto the bed with a loud sigh, grabbing the soft toy in a shape of a lion that was placed right beside her pillow to cuddle and hug, not hesitating to press her face in the worn out and more than slightly scruffy toy to gain some comfort. She wished she could confide to Kira, but reason held her back, not wanting to burden her twin with another trivial matter, especially not when it seemed that he had other things that were bothering him as well. Therefore, the most logical step was to get some sleep, some much needed rest time to recharge and rejuvenate as tomorrow is going to be a long day of classes, presentations, and meetings. 

Keeping herself busy with school life allowed her that short period of time to not _think_ and she truly treasured her nomination and election of student council president. Being in that position gave her responsibilities that needed her to be awake and fully functional, or at least presentable, and she hated the way the lecturers expected her to dress up as if she was going to appear at some ball and it would definitely not help her cause if she turned up looking like China's national treasure. They spoke nothing of the way she dressed, but their pointed glances made her blood boil in indignation. She was very much capable in running the council, with or without heavy make up that made her look like the geishas from the olden days, and clothes that sung of the latest fashion. Yet, she grudgingly had to admit that wearing the same type and colour of pants and button up blouse was challenging the limits of conservative and bordering very dangerously on boring. 

Appearances, first impressions and all that what not.

"Oh come on Cagalli, as if having not enough sleep is not depressing enough, you need to bring that up! Sleep!" She commanded herself exasperatedly, determinedly flipping the light switch off, plunging the room into darkness with only the slight bluish tinge of pearl the moon emitted, forcing herself to close her eyes with the same stubbornness she used to achieve whatever she set her mind to do.

_One little sheep, two little sheep, three little sheep…._

And after awhile, slumber claimed her as a willing hostage, her eyelids fluttering close, long lashes resting on smooth creamy white skin as her breathing evened out and deepened, the slow rise and fall of her chest following the rhythm of the living dead as she spiralled down into a dark oblivion, the beginning of a dreamscape that she was destined to have.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

"No…no…I don't want to see this! Please!" Anisha Lettie let out a choked sob before a chilling heartwrenching howl broke free, piercing through the fog in Hydra's mind, snapping her wide awake. Tears broke free like water from a dam and rushed down Anisha's pale face, her fingers falling slack allowing the glass bottle containing the rest of the golden liquid to fall unhindered with a loud thump.

"Anisha?"

"Nooooooooo!"

"Anisha! Damn you! What did she see! Wasn't this supposed to be a tarot session! What in the world happened!" Hydra exclaimed horrified, her voice raising a few octaves in panic. The drunken state she had been in earlier had all but evaporated when Anisha Lettie, her best friend uttered a stricken sob and just _disappeared,_emotionally if not physically, leaving behind an empty husk, a body without a soul. Hydra's first instinct when Anisha had insisted they went over for a closer look at the sign, had been to get far away from this place but Anisha had scoffed at her insisting that there was nothing wrong and Hydra wished she had been more awake to realise that small discrepancy. Because Anisha had never trusted tarot readings, in fact, she never believed in anything mystical, never, not after what had happened five years ago. Chasing after wisps of maybes and just in cases had resulted in her only brother's death. And Anisha was a quick learner and a slow forgetter.

"I just showed her what she wanted to hide, that was all." The woman replied simply with no trace of emotion whatsoever appearing on her unlined face, as if the things that were unravelling before her was none of her business, she was just an audience to something as interesting as a fly being caught in a spider's web. Volunteering no more other than those sceptic words, she provided none of the answers that Hydra needed.

"Damn you.." Hydra cursed out loud in anger and frustration, getting up and paying no heed to the consequences her sudden movement caused, not even caring when the wooden rickety chair that she was sitting on scraped loudly on the gravely ground or when it toppled with a loud solid thunk, nothing else mattered. Her fear increased exponentially with every passing moment her friend continued to stare vacantly into the space in front of her, like a lifeless rag doll sitting brokenly in a chair, abandoned by her mistress that was supposed to shower her with love and hug her close when she slept every night. 

"Anisha! Come on say something! Damn it! Come on answer me!" Frantically, she called her friend's name repeatedly, her hand patting Anisha's cheek gently at first, but gradually becoming harder with each try, but all her actions were futile, nothing was gained from the unresponsive human in front of her. Apologizing silently in her heart for the next thing she was about to do, hoping her friend would forgive her, but not caring if she did not when she woke up, as long as she woke up, Hydra drew her hand back and slapped her friend's face so hard, Anisha's head whipped back with the force and a trickle of red started down the side of her mouth. 

Waiting expectantly and getting nothing, not even a twitch, the strong façade she put up cracked. "Anisha! Anisha!" She repeated, her usually soothing low, sultry voice trembling and filled with dread and uncertainty, knowing that something was wrong, yet unable to do anything to remedy the whole situation. "Come on Anisha…this is not funny!" Hydra called out again, pleading, her hand rising to push against her almost comatose friend staring vacantly into space. And Anisha's only response was to get up woodenly and walking out without a backward glance.

"I won't forgive you if anything happens to her. I swear to God!" Hydra threatened the woman who did not even flinch at both the threat and the vicious glare Hydra gave her before she started to chase after her doomed friend. Nothing the dark haired girl said would make a difference. She was no match for her, not with her master's protection. Her lips curling up into a slight smile, her hands rose slowly into the air and with a deft flick of her wrist, everything around her disappeared without a trace. The worn out cloth that covered the roof, the table, the chairs, and all the pillows that were tastefully thrown about, all of them vanishing the next second leaving only the glowing crystal ball that floated in the air before her, bobbing minutely up and down. 

Lightly touching the crystal with her fingers, the woman too faded into the darkness, her whispered words floating gently in the night's breeze, "Master…the next one is coming…."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Kira Yamato turned restlessly in his bed, hand held up defensively to enemies that only he could see, his head flipping side to side like an on off switch, his breaths coming out in ragged sobs and pants. His whole body was tensed, distress pouring out of every pore as his mumbled words were lost in the darkness of the night. 

"Don't, please Athrun….Athrun…" His plea ended with a keening wail, filled with helplessness and despair. Tears leaked through his long eyelashes and streamed down his pale face, wetting the pillow beneath him. The dream had slipped through the defences he had put up, thick walls that promised no cracks and no entry. But, somehow, the dark, menacing wisps found weaknesses and exploited it, slithering and slipping through those minute cracks, dropping in uninvited, unashamed at its unwelcome intrusion, providing the sleeping teen images that he did not want to see much less repeating every night. 

He was being murdered in each and every repetition. In the dream, the brown haired boy was pleading with his best friend who looked on without remorse, the knife glinting evilly in the dark. He had tried to explain, had tried to make the other teen understand, that everything was just a lie, a hoax to get rid of the next King, because he had stumbled upon something that some people did not want him to know. He had tried to persuade his best friend, to convince him that given a chance he could prove his innocence. Never once blaming the raven haired teen with glorious white wings about his decision, he understood the responsibilities of the teen, yet, he could not help the sense of betrayal, of helplessness. He did not want to die. Not when his people would be in danger. He did not want to leave his headstrong twin behind, because she would cry, and most of all, he did not want to die because it would mean that his best friend had sinned.

"Please don't do this…" Kira mumbled, his voice so forlorn, but never giving up.

"Athrun..please…"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Anisha Letie was walking towards her death and no one, not even she knew it, the only witnesses being the stars and the sliver of the moon that hung high in the midnight sky. There was a wind blowing, though stronger on the roof where she was so dangerously balanced on its edge. It made her shiver slightly, but she made no move to pull her nightgown tighter around her, allowing the white to billow about her, creating an illusion of a ghost. Tendrils of her ebony black hair danced along with the flimsy cloth as she made her way in stilted steps, like a puppet jerked forward by its strings, slowly but surely towards the empty air and the quiet street beneath her. She halted, just for a moment, her head shaking perceptibly, as if making a last futile protest about the deed that she was about to do before she stilled entirely and bowed her head, like a scolded child listening to the words that only she could hear. The moon that disappeared behind clouds appeared briefly and illuminated her face, giving the tortured expression life as the tears escaped the barrier her eyelids presented and trickled down her pale cheeks.

"You are right….I was the one who should have died…I should have died….not him…never him.." She repeated brokenly, over and over again in anguish, her words blurred by the soft sobs that punctured her sentences. Her jerky steps resuming, it soon brought her nearer and nearer to the edge. Yet through it all, the woman was oblivious of that important fact, caught up in a web of her own making, seeing images that only she could see, regretting past things that was not worth another death. Time seemed to stop when the woman's right foot hovered in the night air with nothing below her, at last hesitating for that one crucial second, enough for somebody to pull her back before she fell, but all was lost when she leaned forward, almost welcoming the fall and she plummeted below with barely a sound, gravity pulling at her greedily, welcoming the victim who was stupid enough to try to defy it.

"No! Grab her!" A male voice rang out desperately, hand outstretched, a black shadow rushing across the small length of the rooftop.

"Kuso! We were not in time!" Another voice joined the first, shriller, harsher, but equally as stressed.

Two figures burst through the metal door which opened to the roof with a loud clang when it slammed into the brick wall behind, breaking the silence of the night. Both of them lunged frantically, desperately, at where the woman was standing last, one arm stretching as long as it could while the other on the ledge for balance. The taller shadow managed to catch hold of a piece of white but only for awhile before the strain became too much and started to rip, the flimsy gauze not worth anything. Both of them stared in horror, flailing wildly, trying to catch hold of something, anything of the woman, but achieving nothing as the woman continued her free fall, the sound of her nightgown ripping and that small square fluttering in the cold night air in the shadow's clenched fist the only thing that was left behind, proof that they had at one point tried. Aghast, they could do nothing but look helplessly before knowing with a certainty when the woman left this world, brought by the sickening crunch-crack-splatter of a body hitting the ground fifteen floors below. 

"Kuso…Kuso!"

* * *

Author's note: Ororororo...trying to write two ficcies at one go is taxing...I had been planning this one to be a "short and sweet" type of story, but it just grew and grew! Everybody's clamouring for attention! So now what was supposed to be a maybe three to five chapter story is expanding and lengthening into an epic...! Oh but nevermind, I rather be swamped by muses than to be a dried up lake. So people, please read and review! I sincerely thank you for all your time.

p.s: grr...I need to win the lottery... 


	3. Background

**Chapter Two: Background**

by: frost2light

Yzak Joule stalked the dark hallways like a snow tiger, furious yet nowhere to vent his frustrations

"Kuso! Kuso!" Yzak Joule howled out, a silver wolf mourning, his eyes bright with anger and hatred, his fingers clenched tightly over the tiny piece of cloth that showed they tried, its small flutter in the wind a joke. "We should have been here earlier. We could have stopped her! We could have…" His voice trailing off as his shoulders shook with the suppressed grief and helplessness. Yzak had always been emotional, no matter how hard a façade he put up, Dearkka Elsman knew that Yzak was brittle and needed only a small push to shatter. The deaths of so many had succeeded in putting a strain on Yzak, he took his duty seriously and not being able to do it right, was something unacceptable for him.

A perfectionist to the core.

"We could not have done anything else. The information came in too late."

"So we should find someone who can get the information faster! These are people's lives, damn it!" Yzak snapped back, even though knowing him throwing a tantrum did not help matters and that Dearkka was hurting as much as he. Watching a person die, even if neither knew each other, was not a laughing matter. In fact, it would just feel like a small part of you died along with the deceased, especially if you could have prevented it, if only you were faster, stronger, more capable.

Dearkka did not reply, merely walking closer to put a slightly trembling hand on Yzak's thin shoulders, knowing that Yzak needed the time to cool off. He had always been the hot headed one. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blood seeping into the pavement cracks, travelling where gravity wants it to. He turned a few degrees away, not wanting to see the woman's tortured mouth, crushed skull and blank, dead eyes. But, the images were imprinted deeply on the surface of his eyeballs, like an image captured by a camera, that one flash leading to all eternity, adding to a lengthening gallery of lost souls that they could not help, could not save. Nothing could change the fact that he did not need to see to know what it would be like. He had, in the past, seen enough. None of the victims had gone peacefully, how could one when one's soul was ripped away forcefully? It was not their time to die, not at all.

"It's the last one, Dearkka…would we be in time? Or do we have to be bystanders again in a war that should not have happened?" Yzak mumbled, his brilliant blue eyes bleak, voicing out the doubts Dearkka felt. Though the time was late, apparently this part of town still held those who came back in the wee hours of the morning, proven by the muffled shouts from below and peppered by a few high shrieks of fear and disgust, the people around the area was accumulating, brought together by the death of a completely innocent woman. Hearing the commotion, Dearkka knew it was time to go, they could not afford to be seen here, it would complicate matters and waste precious time. None would believe their absurd story of being from a place that came before this time, all of them would snicker and point their fingers at them being delusional and making excuses for pushing a helpless woman to her death. It had been the same years ago when they were young. Nobody believed the words of a child caught up in his own mind.

_I'm sorry I could not save you…but I will not allow you to die in vain._

"Yzak…we have to go." Dearkka said, his voice low but firm, applying gentle pressure Yzak's shoulders, guiding the distraught teen away from the horrific scene down below. He could not help Yzak's internal turmoil, he had his own to deal with, but he could stay strong and be the pillar that supported the other. He had always thought of Yzak as the younger brother that he never had and protected him as such, but God forbid if Yzak knew or acknowledged his brotherly affections, his pride would not admit that he needed anybody to guard his back much less being the shield to protect him. He had to admit that Yzak was certainly one irritating human being at times.

Meanwhile, Yzak seemed to be coming out of his slight daze and with his mind clearing, he could see what Dearkka was talking about and responded to his persuasion with a nod. Glad that he was not alone in this awful situation, a small part of him wished he had the bravery to admit to Dearkka that he was grateful for his companionship, appreciated all the times when Dearkka had to cover his back, almost always forgetting about taking care of his own, but the bigger, more dominant part of him pushed that thought away, men did not say mushy stuff like this, only women did. Looking back once more before going, he whispered a silent goodbye and apology to the deceased, he too realised that there was indeed nothing else they could do, there was no turning back the time, only gritting their teeth and continuing on with their future. Going back the way they came, both of them could hear the cackling of gleeful laughter that whispered through the wind, soft, inconspicuous but definitely there. It was goading them, taunting their fraying patience and helplessness, preying on their anger and hatred.

"Too late, too late, stop me if you can…before the last one."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Two hours ago, at precisely the moment Anisha Lettie entered the unknown woman's tent, Murrue Ramius and Mwu La Flaga tightened their grips on each other, their fingers interwoven so tightly an outsider would have had trouble differentiating which was whose. Both of them were looking intently towards where their square table stood with crystals of different sizes, clarity and colours lay, casting rainbow sheens around the room when they allowed the illumination from the candles which were placed all around to be bounced off their smooth surfaces. Murrue's mouth was moving, eyes closed in concentration, her tongue slipping smoothly over words that was age old, forming spells she had worked hard in the past to learn.

She had been one of the many advisors the King had in his court, her master a man of many eccentricities, almost to the point of being dysfunctional, but he had been brilliant, a shrewd observer that allowed nothing to escape his piercing gaze. She had been his protégé, the girl genius who had mastered all spells thrown at her, no matter how high the level it had been. Many had been envious, some had attempted to befriend her, some had openly ignored her, most had been downright hostile. She had ignored all of them, acted cool and aloof, although at that young age, she could not understand the reason why they hated her. She was no genius, what came to her was gotten through hard work. When all others had slept, she had stayed up reading, pouring over those ancient, hardly decipherable scripts that were brown and brittle with non use and a scrawling cursive in fading black ink that looked more like worms on paper than anything useful.

But, she persevered through it all. A pact, promise she had made to her parents and to herself. Her parents had died smiling when she had vowed in front of them that she too would follow in their footsteps and protect what was precious to her. She loved what she did and she knew, with knowledge came power, and with power came the ability to defend, that was why she read voraciously, spent every waking hour doing at least something, never one to sit back and relax. It had been quite apparent to others except her that she was slowly working herself to the ground and sooner or later her death. In fact, it was because of this potential loss, the Queen herself had taken it into her own hands to remedy the problem. To Her Highness, love was the potion for everything and that was when Mwu La Flaga, the man who resembled the sun came into her life.

"_Your Highness, as much as I appreciate your gesture, I do not need a bodyguard." Murrue Ramius said through gritted teeth, the only thing holding her back from throttling the smirking, gleeful, meddling woman in front of her was the fact that they were both best of friends and a rather small but quite important thing called status._

"_Oh but I insist. He is quite a darling and besides, he has a gorgeous smile…and body, I'm sure you would be able to find something to do with those incredible assets." The Queen, ever the tease said deadpanned, but Murrue could see the amusement in those brown eyes and the King who was shamelessly eavesdropping at the side, hiding a smile behind a book and a laugh with a smothered cough._

"_Very well, Your Highness, it's quite apparent that your minds have been made up." _

And with those words, everything started sliding south and into the drain, the beginning of a string of unfortunate circumstances, or maybe it was premeditated, who knew except God? But the only one thing that turned out right was the fact that she had met Mwu La Flaga.

Focusing back to the task at hand, she took in the formation of the Crystals in front of her. Crystals had always been more than a tool for the people of the Crystal Kingdom, it had been _vital._ To them, they were part and parcel of who they are and both human and mineral is linked inexplicably to each other, both responding to their own unique wavelength. This connection brought power to those who sought, knowledge to those who understood, and contentment to ones who were looking for it. They were more than stones or decorative pieces of jewellery unlike current times where people wore them for beauty or good luck. It is generally known that different people who were born under different astrological signs had a crystal that belonged specifically to that one person; these were what connect the best for them, enabling them to fully utilize the crystal and themselves to the optimum level. These ninety percent of the population formed the basis of the Crystal Kingdom, and they were known as the Dabblers.

However, in some rare cases, one crystal was not limited to one person, a group of high level specialists could manipulate more than one stone, these people were called Users or for those who are truly gifted, they could borrow almost anything that came in touch with them and they were known as the Connectors. These chosen ones have an extraordinarily high tolerance of what the crystals need, it was a give and take situation. The way the Crystal is used is essential to its growth; it requires to be challenged constantly by its owner and its partner in order to develop in strength and power. They were almost human like in that particular sense, given a choice to shine or stay dim; the Crystals leap to their owner's calls. A capable User or Connector would be able to bring out the good of a Crystal, but a truly worthy one would be able to bring out the best and create miracles.

However, it is not easy to be classified as worthy, for the Crystals are not simple accessories, people who knew better, the Wise Ones, would liken them to have a life of its own, possessed by spirits living in them, lending their power who those they deem capable and would treat them accordingly. Being able to fully utilise a Crystal demands a strong physique but most importantly, an unbreakable spirit and mind. Using Crystals drains one's strength if used too long, but the main challenge and most serious consequence was being in constant danger of being dominated by the overwhelming presence of a Crystal. If the battle between human mind and Crystal was lost, it would mean the sealing off of one's own mind in an unbreakable prison in one's own body, it was the ultimate tug and war of strength between human and Crystal.

Yzak Joule and Dearkka Elsman, both of them Users yet they had not been from the Crystal Kingdom. Dearkka had been from the royals of the sea and Yzak a descendent of the original line from the land. Both of them had been "gifts" from one Kingdom to another, a show of peace and harmony. Yet, even though the differences were apparent, the Crystals had reacted to them, acknowledging their existence, allowing them control of what they could offer. In turn, they treated the Crystals with respect, gaining the ability to control two or more stones, each utilising what they could to turn the best out of their partnership. It had been quite unusual, many rumours sprouting out like mushrooms after the rain, following them doggedly, creating an atmosphere of doubt and jealousy, resulting in many treating them apprehensively, always on the guard, never really truly trusting these two foreigners who were not from the Cyrstal Kingdom yet unbelievably able to master the ways of the Crystal.

Thankfully, neither of them reacted to this discrimination as they had found their own niche and group of people who accepted them as they were. Those had been the happier days. Murrue could still remember Nicol Amalfi's music, Miriallia Haw's vitality, Kira Yamato's gentleness and Cagalli Yula Athha's intensity. They had been a completely disorganized bunch of people, so different yet bonding together so naturally, things had been so much better then.

_But things are different now._

Concentrating intently on the formation in front of her, she closed her eyes before touching each crystal, slowly and surely, never neglecting any of them, starting from the ones inside, her lips moving silently in a chant. With each touch, the Crystals responded and started glowing, pulsing with life, a low musical hum filling the room that was felt instead of heard. Murrue's lips curled up in a smile for a moment, her head bowing slightly in gratitude, thanking each Crystal for the role all of them were playing, showing her appreciation the way she was taught so long ago. Finishing the small but necessary ritual, her brown eyes opened and surveyed the arrangement in front of her, checking briskly for the final time for any mistakes that could prove fatal. Everything had to be perfect.

There were crystals of different colours and sizes, all laid out specifically for a reason. The bigger crystals, no matter the colour or type, were arranged in a wide circle, taking up two thirds of the table, forming a border, guarding a lone translucent, pale green one in the middle and the ones around it. These were the Guards, the defence mechanism that allowed nothing in and vice versa. The remaining others, the Magicians were scattered at the four points of the table, but inside the border by the larger crystals, five gathered together in each group, glowing pearl white from within, casting an ethereal, almost magical beauty towards the other three different points which formed a network of straight lines that were naked to the inexperienced eye. They were in charge of defending Anisha Lettie's soul, the ones that Murrue hoped were enough. All of the lines that were emitted connected and bounced off each other, it created an impenetrable defence.

But two hours later, the outcome had been the same as before.

It had failed.

"We were too late…again." Murrue said dejectedly, stating an unchangeable fact, her voice distant and fatigued after the long period of time that sapped away her energy, leaving her feeling disorientated and bone tired, breaking the solemn, tense silence that enshrouded the whole room. She had tried. God knows she had pulled everything she could remember, everything her master had taught her about defensive spells, she had even successfully harnessed the energy needed, so where did it go all wrong? Dejected, disappointed and feeling so helpless, Murrue wiped away the moisture that had trickled into her eyes, as her palm came away wet, she herself did not know if it were sweat or tears. They were supposed to have a fighting chance, her inner self screamed as she stared woodenly at her palm, she knew she had started out strong, that she had a chance, but it seemed in that all too brief a moment, the fact remained that no matter what she did, Anisha Lettie did not respond.

Not even once.

_But she did, for that brief second__…_

Murrue stared ahead, eyes unwavering towards the object which had once been a jade crystal that had represented Anisha's soul. Previously, it had been a beautiful translucent deep green the colour of the surface of an ocean seen overhead, the shimmering nuances dancing with the light, a colour that brightened every corner, so much alike the person herself. Anisha was a woman that had her ups and downs, but she had never given up, she had moved on and tried to put the past beyond her. It had been hard but things were beginning to look up for her, her business in jewellery, though small and unsteady at first had started thriving in the past few months, she had even met a guy that could potentially be her future husband, the man she would rely and have a family with.

_But all that taken away from her…against her will. How could they? How could anyone?_

As Murrue ran through the details, her eyes blurred and this time she knew for sure it was tears, because all that remained of Anisha, that clarity and vividness and _life_, was a dull, muddy stone that barely glimmered. Murrue had continued trying, not giving up, finally getting that one breakthrough, that one brief second when she had been able to pierce through the shroud in Anisha's mind and told her to stop. But, that lucidity lasted a mere second, not enough, never enough, before the mist pushed her out forcefully, slamming the door hard in her face, snapping that brief contact she had with Anisha, laughing cruelly at her attempts, never disguising their contempt and scorn for her pathetic and sorry attempts. She could still hear their exaggerated saccharine sweetness of a bully and Anisha's pitiful calls for help.

_I'm sorry…_

_I'm so so sorry.._

Murrue did not look at her lover, could not bring herself to speak, afraid that the thickness in her chest would spill out along with the desperation, the helplessness, her despair. She did not have the luxury of breaking down, not now. The blonde man sitting beside her said nothing either, no words to reassure her, placate her, not because he did not care but because nothing could ease the pain he knew both of them felt. He merely sat there, unmoving, his fingers tight around the woman's, willing all his warmth, all his reassurance that things, though looking extremely bleak at the moment, would get better. He wished fervently that his optimism would be transmitted to her.

_Go on and try once more…I won't give up till the end._

Reaching out hesitantly as if hearing the man's unspoken words, feeling his nearness, his sudden tightening of fingers, brought her unsaid amounts of comfort, much more than mere words could convey and she tried again. Murrue's free hand brushed lightly over the muddy green crystal which was hexagonal in shape, she needed to make sure, and there was still hope…if it could just respond. "Anisha, if you can hear me, please, don't give up. Please…"

And respond it did.

Murrue's eyes widened slightly, her slumped shoulders straightening distinctly and the words that were burned eternally into her skull rode confidently on the tip of her tongue, ready to launch itself on command. But, a second later, before anything could be done, the crystal dimmed drastically, flickered once, twice, a dying flame within and extinguished itself, leaving a black stone that cracked, a breaking, splintering sound so familiar after six before, the ragged zigzag line running from the top right through the middle before reaching its end and shattering into millions of smaller fragments before dissolving into dust. Retracting her hand immediately as if burnt, Murrue stared helplessly at the black ashes in front of her, her body trembling like a leaf in a particularly strong wind, brown eyes wet with unshed tears, tears that she blinked back forcefully, not allowing herself to cry.

"I'm sorry…" She whispered to the dead, hoping they could hear her apologies and forgive her for being a step too late, " I'm so so sorry…."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The man watched silently as the scene unfolded in front of his eyes, the images blurring once in a while but coming back to its original clarity as he sat in the dark witnessing the failures of the people he knew. If he wanted to do it, it would be now, right at this moment when their defences were down and their guard weakened by the physical and mental onslaught with evil. His expression unreadable, he wasted another minute pondering his choices before finally making up his mind. He stood and retrieved what seemed to be a large package, untying the brown string that held the papers together, pulling out object after object that stayed hidden in the shadows. When he finally finished with his arrangement, his mouth split into a huge grin, "Let's see what all of you are made of. Let's see if you will be able to challenge Evil straight on."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Murrue…" Mwu La Flaga said softly, feeling his chest constrict painfully when Murrue looked at him so desolately, so pained. He pulled her close into his embrace, willing his warmth to seep through her hurt and heal whatever wounds that she had, just so that she can rise like a phoenix and fight again. He tightened his arms around her slim body and wished he could be the knight in shining armour that chased off all nightmares, all demons and created a beautiful happily ever after for his princess, but he had no powers, not the ability to foresee the future, not the elemental gifts that slept buried beneath till the time was right, he was just a human man who loved with all his being a woman he had no way of helping. The feeling of inadequateness gnawed persistently at him, he had no role in this battle, except the one that had been assigned to him all those time ago. He had been Murrue's bodyguard in more ways than one. He was the person who had made sure she ate and slept properly, that she was healthy, he was in other words a wife to her husband. Many male pride and ego could never accept playing second fiddle to anyone, much less a woman half his size, but he did not care, to him, power and pride meant nothing if he could not even take care of the woman he held closest to his heart. Together with Murrue, Yzak and Dearkka, it was the nearest thing he could call a family.

_I will be their pillar of support, their emotional balance in this crazy world, someone has to be the cheerful j__oker in this cynical, depressing world of heroes who think they are all alone._

Kissing Murrue lightly on her forehead before pulling back to face her, to look deep within her eyes, to transmit his conviction, his beliefs that they would be all right, that they could get through this just as how they did in the past, he smiled gently, his thumb brushing away the tears with equal softness as he spoke, "We won't give up till the very end, if we don't throw in the white flag, we still will have chances, it may be slim, but there is still a percentage that we can turn the tables. Don't give up yet Murrue, not until we complete what we were born to do."

_And I will stand by you till the very end._

Touched by Mwu's sincerity, Murrue nodded, "I know…I cannot afford to break down now. There is still one more, one more important piece, the King, if we can prevent that, if we can successfully combine the others, find them, we can stop It, we can stop that monster from destroying a peaceful land, prevent it from becoming what our Kingdom became so many years ago."

_Death and destruction…so much blood..it __seemed that the sky was raining with them, those colours painted the snow of the Cyrstal Kingdom crimson red, layer upon layer upon layer, not knowing where it started and where it ended, everything just screamed of despair and helplessness and unneeded cruelty. Lives were thrown away for a witch who never knew the value of a single life._

_The death of a kingdom because of a death of a king._

" Murrue…I know what had happened, I still remember most of it, but, there is nothing we can do if we live in the past, we have to move forward, focus on something that we can do, its better for us and for the two who have come to rely on us." Mwu spoke urgently, his voice still soft but firm, the look on Murrue's face was familiar, the shadows and the worry lines etched deeply by the sides of her mouth and eyes, he could see it in his own whenever he was reminded of the past, but he could not afford to allow Murrue to be dragged down into the past, so much so she feared the future and what it may bring, it clouded her normally clear and sharp mind and neither of them could afford something of this magnitude at the current moment.

"But…."

"No buts." Mwu cut her sentence short, his finger on her lips silencing her protests, protests that were the same as his deep down inside, but he had to be strong for a woman with such a burden, he had to make sure his shoulders were broad and sturdy enough to carry both their worries and not fail. If one did not believe in their ownself, then they needed people around them to believe for them. Mwu would be that someone, he guarded Murrue's sanity so much more fiercely than he guarded his safety. It was what bodyguards do, it was what he had been assigned to do all that time ago, and he had never forgotten that. It was a responsibility he prided himself over and never regretted for that one moment.

"You don't have to be with me, you know that." Murrue said, almost sadly, feeling a wave of depressing thoughts crash through her, she understood what was going through Mwu's mind, regretting half of it yet selfishly not wanting to let go. Facing life alone without him, without light, without his warmth, oh she knew she would be able to survive, to function, but to live, to truly be alive? She doubted it. Even she did not hold such high regard for herself. No man is an island, and no woman wanted to be alone.

_Not after she had tasted love.._

_(__But…he just takes you as responsibility, something he was given…)_

_Responsibility? If it was just responsibility, a duty to protect her, she did not want that. She wanted everything, his heart, his body, his soul._

_(How would you know? You have never asked him..)_

Murrue stepped away from Mwu and turned, heading towards the kitchen, pretending to pick up a glass, hoping that her shaking hands could be covered by her back, but knowing it was futile under Mwu's sharp eyes. She tried blocking out those suddenly loud whispers of doubt which planted seeds in her conscience, but they continued on relentlessly, biting on with no intention of letting go.

(_He doesn't love you…its just an obligation.)_

_Who are you! What are you doing?_

_(Do not think you can lie to yourself, you know it too, don't you?)_

Stubbornly holding on to the glass, griping it so hard her knuckles turned white, she heard Mwu's footsteps and felt his breath tickling the base of her neck. She shivered, wanting to run and hide yet hoping fervently that Mwu would just embrace her once again, holding her tightly against his chest, allowing her to hear the steady beats of his heart, just to overcome her irrational fear and get rid of the uncertainty that pulled her down into a dark abyss filled with mistrust and reservations. She hated being a weak willed woman who only knew how to simper and faint at the slightest disturbance, she hated being the one who was so emotionally vulnerable she had to rely on a man to survive. She had always prided herself on her self restraint, her self control, her will. But after she met him, things just were not rational anymore.

(_Yes, you are weak, you cannot survive without him…)_

_(What would you become if he left you now?)_

_Shut up…what are you doing to me?!_

"Murrue…look at me. Please." A low plead that showed how much he cared, worried that something was wrong. A small, conscious, _awake_ part of her knew that it was not an act, not something that came from a loyal servant, sounding more like an anxious man bothered over his loved one and that part of her struggled furiously to get out of the catch and pull of quicksand which only ended with darkness that beckoned.

_What is wrong with me?! Why am I trapped in here? Mwu! Help me!_

"I'm sorry. Do you mind if you left me for awhile?" Murrue heard herself answer wearily as if all her energy had been exhausted, spent, that part of her just wanting to curl up, not wanting to face death and the probability that her lover just was not the one who willingly stayed. If given a choice she just wanted to close her eyes and sleep away the troubles, run away into that welcoming darkness that would envelop her and push away all her worries and pain.

_Who is this?! Damn you! Get this spell off me right this instant!__ What are you trying to do?! Damn it answer me! Don't hide behind those pathetic whispers!_

_(Ohh…you can detect my presence pretty puppet?)_

_You!_

_(Yes, my doll, its me, I'm flattered you remember me.)_

_What have you done to me?!_

_(Don't get so excited darling, its just a game, don't you really want to know what is in his heart? Don't you want to see if he's truly staying because of that stupid notion called love?)_

_Damn you…_

_(You do want to know, you should have just said what you wanted, it would have been easier would it not?)_

_Let me go!_

_(Don't be such a spoilsport, let's just see what happens next, shall we?)_

_(Let's see where your limits are!)_

_Mwu! _

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The hooded man chuckled at the reaction the brown haired woman, the amount of fight she had in her, he was impressed. He had known beforehand that Murrue Ramius would be a woman to be regarded with seriously but she had exceeded his expectations, she was indeed a person who could stand in Evil's way, but would she be able to fulfil that promise, he would see. It was going to be interesting what this couple would do. He had to ascertain some things before he revealed himself to them. He had to be convinced that they were what _she_ had told him they would be. He was not about to offer his help to people who did not earn them, and personally, he suffered no fools, despite what _she _wished.

"Well then Murrue and Mwu, show me what you got."

* * *

Author's note: Its been awhile since I've updated I know, but I was hoping to be able to create something realistic for this, an alternate world where the characters came to be in, so please forgive me if I took too long. Any constructive comments are welcomed and everything that you say means a lot. So tell me what you think about the newest addition. Till the next time!


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